paixaorpg | Scouting Missions are fun

Entry tags:

Scouting Missions are fun

Characters: Zira [Open]
Content: A lioness checking out the area
Setting: Pride Lands
Time: Week 32, beginning of the week during the day
Warnings: It’s Zira, so violence is expected?

Zira moved through the tall grass as if she had done it many times before. In fact, she had. There wasn't a blade of grass or even a stone she didn't recognize of the Pride Lands. To some extent that pleased her, but it also brought up harsh memories of what happened after Scar's death.

Everything that brute Simba did to her. It just fueled her need for revenge more and more! The tawny lioness growled faintly and lashed out at a near by tree, clawing the bark away as her ears and tail flickered in a mixture of anger and alertness. Zira needed to focus, Scar sent her here for a reason and she would not let her beloved mate down.

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Sighing, Wolf walked into his room, feeling like he should probably take a walk outside. Get his mind off the whole Scar thing, he definitely felt like he shouldn’t do that again. At least, not until he knows he’s fully prepared to confront him. So far though, Wolf hasn’t had any recent luck picking up any more clues. Though he knows the closest clue he can get was that lioness Zira, she seems heavily intent on getting her way to have Scar as king of the Pride Lands, one way or another.

Growling to make matters worse, the full moon was coming up for him. He could feel it. Wolf scratched the back of his neck with a gruff as he opens the closet. Little does he know, that there is a wormhole that warped in there while he was gone.

“I’ll have to tell Remus we gotta prepaaa-AAAAARRRAAAAHHOOOWWWWWWW!!!” Wolf screamed into a howl as he fell into wormhole. Feeling his body wrenched and pulled into the white tunnel. It was quick and swift, but it wasn’t sooner or later that Wolf fell into the pride lands, with an instant thump.

As Wolf pulled himself up, he felt himself be on all fours. He shook his head with a growl as he opened his eyes to what was around him. Blades of grass and nearby were a watering hole. He breathed in a huff as he tried to get up on his hind legs, but falls back down. Confused, Wolf looked down at himself. He wasn’t human anymore. Wolf was now, literally, a fluffy dark wolf. Yelping, he scrambled backwards, before falling over on his back.

“Oooooooooh, CRIPES,” Wolf shouted covering his paws over his eyes in frustration, “NOT AGAAAAAIN!!” He glared up at the sky, as he growled in a twitch, “Grrrrrf, This castle hates me, I swear.”

Zira paused when she heard the cry of... a dog? The Lioness grit her teeth as she slowly stalked through the grass, following both the sounds of the clumsy creature and the unmistakeable sound of the canine.

All too soon she was crouched in the grasses, not far from him. What was that? He didn't look like a wild dog and he definitely was not a filthy hyena. For now, she watched and remained down wind.

Timon clutched Pumbaa’s ears tightly as the warthog trotted horridly toward the sound of distress. “This is crazy!” the meerkat hissed in a hushed tone. “Have you even thought about this? What if that thing eats us, huh?” Met with nothing but a snort in return, Timon growled in frustration. Helping strangers wasn’t his thing, especially when they were in an even stranger land. Who knew what carnivorous beasts lurked in the shadows, threatening to spring out at any moment and…! The meerkat closed his eyes, another cry echoing across the grasslands. They were much closer now. If Timon didn’t know any better, he’d say they were practically beside it.

“Why do you drag me into these things?” he whispered hastily, growing more nervous by the second. Something was telling him to turn around, that it wasn’t safe here. Although, at the same time, he felt as though he knew this place somehow. Déjà Foo, was it? No, that wasn’t it. Déjà New? Déjà View? Timon lowered himself further into Pumbaa’s mane as they reached an opening. “I don’t care if they’re hurt or not. If it’s a carnivore I don’t want any part of it. You might be alright with being breakfast bacon but I’m not!”

"But what if he needs our help, Timon? Wouldn't you feel bad if you knew you could've helped him and then you didn't? I know I would." Pumbaa looked up at his buddy on his head disapprovingly. "Besides, maybe he could help us too."

The warthog paused in thought. "I think I'm having a Déjà Vu."

Wolf got up on his feet, growling a bit to himself in frustration. Just what is with this stupid castle and all these bloody stages here? Something in the air changed though, his nose twitched, was that…?

“Bacon? Bacon?” Wolf started to grins, “Delicious, nibble it. Roast it, toast it—GOTTA HAVE IT, IT’S BACOOOOON!!” He jumps from his spot, and run out among the blades of grass, toward the smell of delicious pork. Wolf pounced once he spotted the pig, but suddenly something small caught his eye. Timon?!

Scooting into an immediate halt in front of the warthog and meerkat, his ears laid flat in confusion, “Arrroo? Timon? What are you doing out here?”

Zira froze when the dog-creature suddenly took off shouting something about food. She followed and silently stalked through the grass to where it disappeared to. Once she got there, she paused and wrinkled her nose at the smell. The dog thing wanted to eat.. that? And apparently he knew the mouthy bite seized snack.

“No, I wouldn’t.” He replied flatly to his friend. “Besides, what do you need their help for? You got mine and there’s nothin’ better than that.” Or worse in this narrator’s opinion. The meerkat sighed. “Can we please just turn around?” he begged, peeking out from the warthogs mane. That was when he noted movement in the grass. Timon’s grip around the warthogs ears tightened as his head perked out further. Had it found them? He narrowed his eyes, noting the continued movement in the grass. Yes, something was coming alright. And that something was headed straight for them.

“Pumbaa…” the meerkat began shakily, noting the hunger in the voice that had carried over. ‘Bacon’, it had shouted. It had to be a carnivore, no doubt. “Pumbaa…!” He pulled sharply on his friends ears, hoping to get the pig moving in the opposite direction of the approaching beast. Whatever this thing was, it was hungry and it had stated clearly that its sights were set on Pumbaa.

Until he heard his name. “H-huh?”

After the initial fear, screaming, and general freaking out, Pumbaa found himself becoming surprisingly calm when the carnivore said Timon's name. He smiled and looked up to his little buddy.

"Are you friends with this guy, Timon? Because if you are, you really should tell him that it's not very nice to try to eat other animals. Especially when those other animals might be friends of your friends."

Wolf tilted his head and perked his furry brow up a bit in both confusion and interest. What this warthog Timon’s friend too? He sat down, letting himself try to be civilized at the least bit. It was hard when his animal instincts would kick in instantly at the smell of pig… Even if it stinks, he knows what it is. Wolf then rolled his eyes, “Grrf, believe me, it’s a work in development. Call it a diet I’ve been working on, ‘Don’t Eat Friends’.”

Adjusting a paw or two, Wolf spoke again addressing himself, “My name is Wolf, Timon and I met a while back ago. What’s your name?”

Timon blinked numerous times while he stared at the animal before them. Why had it stopped? Had it caught whiff of Pumbaa? Why hadn’t it run away? And how did it know his name? He certainly didn’t know any wild dogs. Though, for some reason this one seemed to know him. He continued to look over the animal with both caution and curiosity as it spoke. Its scent seemed oddly familiar. Actually, it was very familiar. Timon recognized it instantly. The problem was the scent didn’t match the face. This was… well, he wasn’t sure what it was but it was definitely not Wolf. Or so he had thought. However, the more it spoke the more Timon began realize that the scent did in fact belong to the correct owner. This… thing was-

“Wolf!” he cried before Pumbaa had a chance to respond. The meerkat sprang out from his hiding spot and onto the warthog’s snout. “W-what are you… When did… How… What happened to you?! You’re not… You look… Different.” None of this made a lick of sense to the meerkat and finding the right words, never mind the right question to ask, proved exceedingly difficult. This wasn’t right at all. Though, in Timon’s opinion, the change was without doubt an improvement. Even if he was reminded of a wild dog.

"I'm Pumbaa," the warthog answered with a big grin. "Nice to meet you!" He looked up at Timon again, and frowned.

"And when were you going to introduce me to this friend of yours, Timon? He seems really nice! And look at his fluffy fur, I've never seen someone who looks like that before. What kind of animal are you?"

Ears perking up immediately in surprise, then that’s when Wolf remembered he was no longer human looking. He looked down at himself and then gave a kinda sheepish smile. “Awwoo… I guess I’m not human looking anymore,” Wolf said with a forced chuckle, “Well I guess my looks now fit to what my other half is, see previously I was half man, half wolf.”

Standing back up on all fours, Wolf, made a turn around. Show his fluffy canine form to them fully. “I guess I’m full wolf now that I’m in this level of the castle, this place somehow turned me into one, Halloween Town did that too,” Wolf said, but then gave an unamused expression, “Though in that place I was more… Menacing looking, Grrf.”

Wolf looked back at his tail, which wagged to and through, “Well at least I still have my tail."

Pumbaa’s logic never failed to astound Timon. Fluffy fur? That was what the warthog had chosen to focus on? Not the large, daunting set of teeth looking back at them? The ravenous longing which escaped Wolf’s eyes, or the fact that the carnivore had been chasing him only moments ago with the full intent to eat him? The meerkat suppressed the urge so slap his paw over his face at the thought. Had he not been there, Pumbaa would no doubt have become dinner. Though, even while Timon was, he still had to question the hogs thinking. Pumbaa had assumed just by Wolf knowing his name they were friends, that the carnivore was no longer a threat. WRONG!

“Pumbaa,” the meerkat whined. “he just said my name. That doesn’t mean we’re friends. He still could have eaten you!” Pausing, he turned back to Wolf for a moment before continuing. “No offence. But you can’t go trusting other animals so easily!” Pumbaa may have taken being eaten lightly, mostly due to misunderstanding, but Timon certainly didn’t. He jumped up and down on his friends head, hoping to beat some sense into the warthog while he scolded him. “You gotta think, Pumbaa! Think!”

As for Wolf, Timon tried to ignore his comment regarding the floors, especially Halloween Town. He had a strong dislike of that world. Or floor. Whatever. The point was that place gave him to the creeps. Not only that, but made him look, to be vague, ‘different’. The meerkat had taken little liking to the monstrous form he took on there. Though, he supposed it could have been worse; he could have turned into a human. That’d of been really scary. But still, it was something he preferred to avoid if at all possible.

Edited 2011-05-26 00:43 (UTC)

Pumbaa was about to start protesting, but then Timon started jumping up and down on his head. "Hey, what's so bad about being nice to people you just met?" He blinked each time the meerkat jumped on him, and shook out his bit of a mane when Timon finally stopped.

The warthog just couldn't understand what was so wrong with being nice to people, even if they were scary, big-toothed carnivores. Some of them were okay, just look at Simba! He was a lion and he was really great!

Wolf eyes lowered, back to that unamused expression. He then rolled his eyes at Timon once he said he meant no offence, sure he knew he didn’t, but man can Timon overreact. “None taken,” Wolf stated flatly, before laying down on his stomach, crossing his paws over the other watching Timon go on and on with his rant. Frankly to him, it was like watching a fairy going nuts after you accidentally step on its house or something.

Watching Timon now jump up and down on Pumbaa’s nose, Wolf lifted his head up and down every time Timon jumped in the air. He lifted his furry brow at them both. Then shakes his head, “Now Timon, I know you’re worried and all. But you know I’m am a friend of yours, and can protect you from other predators…”

Though Wolf started to lower his ears, now remembering Scar, “…That doesn’t count lions though, if we see one coming after us. We run for the hills."

“You’re completely missing the point.” Timon practically wept, face buried in his paws. How anything managed to get through that thick skull of his remained an utter mystery to the meerkat. “This ain’t about manners, Pumbaa. This is about… Oh, what’s the use.” Sighing in defeat, his eyes wandered to the sky while thoughts of jumping on the warthogs head again came to mind, if only for good measure. No one ever mentioned the tolerance required when being the brains of the outfit. He would talk to Pumbaa later about this.

Turning back to face Wolf, he raised a brow. He needn’t even mention Scar’s name for Timon to know he had in some way been referring to the lion. His expression quickly changed into a scowl as he was reminded of Wolf’s foolish – no, idiotic – decision to confront the lion after having specifically been told to avoid him. The meerkat opened his mouth, prepared to let Wolf hear the real ranting he had yet to unleash before it clicked just what the carnivore had said.

“L-lions?!” he cried, stumbling backward before diving back into Pumbaa’s mane. “Where?”

Edited 2011-05-26 05:05 (UTC)

Zira couldn't help but smirk at the mentioning of lions in their conversation. Well, who was she to deny them the pleasure of her presence. So with out further ado the tawny lioness made her presence known as she slips out of the tall grass behind wolf, fangs bared and claws always out.

"Here."

"Well, we do know one lion who's really--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Pumbaa's eyes go wide and he instantly darts in the opposite direction of the lioness. He doesn't know who this one is, but she doesn't look very nice at all, and his instinct to run is very strong.

Wolf turns around, oh no, he recognizes that lioness. Scar’s crazy insane mistress who seems to be more murderous than any other evil queen witch he’s seen in his entire life. There was only one thing to do in situations like… Panic. Wolf screamed, “OH-CRRRRRIPPPEESSS, RUN FOR IT!!!”

And off the scared canine went, running off as fast as he can with the warthog and meerkat.

They were running. Or at least Wolf and Pumbaa were. Timon did not know what had happened, only that one moment they were all seated and the next they were running as fast as their feet could carry them. His grip on Pumbaa’s ears appeared to have subconsciously tightened on its own before he had even realized they were running. Perhaps it had been caused by the screaming which rang through his ears. The cries of both his comrades had been more than enough to convince him something had gone wrong. And once Timon looked behind him, he too joined them in a chorus of screams which almost seemed in harmony. It was all music to Zira’s ears, surely.

“You sure this one ain’t friendly?” he shouted into his friend’s ear mockingly. “She might really need a hug!” Timon could have certainly used one, however not nearly as badly as he needed a plan. The environment was quite possibly the worst they could have stumbled upon. There were no places to hide, trees or tall plant life to weave between in hopes of losing the lioness. Glancing back at Zira, the meerkat wracked his brain frantically for a means of escape. While Wolf very likely could, Timon was almost certain Pumbaa could not outrun the lioness.

“Pumbaa!” Timon called out again after a moment of thought. “We’re gonna have to pull a number.” Cringing, his gaze wandered over to Wolf, hoping he would be eager to contribute. Though, he knew Wolf would not like in the slightest what he would have to ask him. “It’ll be a number one.” He said regrettably. “Wolf’ll be a seven. Everyone in!”

Without warning, the meerkat sharply pulled to the right on Pumbaa's ears, hoping to steer him suddenly right into Wolf and knock both down in the progress. This would allow them to hide in the grass for a moment. The illusion that they had disappeared would not last long, but it would be more than enough time for Timon to explain his scheme through something other than numbers. Pumbaa was likely used to such terrible steering, and hopefully wouldn't make a fuss. Wolf on the other hand was Timon's concern. The moment they'd hit the ground his paws would move to clamp the wolfs mouth shut while he explained his plan.

They were right~ the screaming was music to her ears and then the running. Oh she loved it when her prey decided to give her a delightful work out. It made her all the more willing to eat them. And perhaps, play with her food a little.

Zira took off after them, easily keeping behind them for now and snapping at the trio to make them run faster only to have to suddenly stop and skid into the tall grass as they suddenly veered of and disappeared. If they thought that would save them, the trio had another thing coming.

With a flick of her tail she disappeared into the grasses, her nose looking for the very pungent scent of a warthog to stalk.

"...What's a number one?" Pumbaa didn't have much time to think though as he was sharply steered into Wolf's side. The resulting impact sent both animals tumbling over each other and into the tall grass.

"Stay down!" Pumbaa whispered just loud enough for Wolf to hear, which might just have been louder than it needed to be. He had never been very good at keeping quiet when he needed to. He hoped Timon's plan was going to work, because without Simba here they were gonna be lion food really soon.

Run! Run! Wolf let himself take off as fast as he can, looking back at the predator chasing them. His mind started racing, they needed to loose track of the lioness somehow, and he tried to click in his mind how to escape the hunter. When suddenly Wolf was knocked over by Pumbaa, he rolled over and gripped his paws to the ground. Once Timon held his mouth, he knew then and there, shut the hell up and be completely still. He’s done this before. Wolf knew what to do in situations like this. The only thing that worried him really, was their scent.

Wolf’s fur raised, he knew they won’t be able to stay here long, if they were gonna act, they would have to act quickly as soon as she goes away. Wolf looked over to Timon and Pumbaa, what were they talking about? Did they have a plan? His attention was now both on them and Zira now, his eyes darting from the two to the huntress. He kept still and close to them, holding his very breathe.

“We can’t outrun her.” Timon spoke softly into Wolf’s ear. “But you can.” Stopping for a moment to look out for Zira, he then turned back to the wolf and began to speak again. “That’s why I need a favour.” He continued hurriedly. “If you stay hidden, we can distract her long enough that you should be able to sneak up on her. Keep her busy while we sneak out the back door and I might just give you more on Scar and the Organization.” It was a lot to ask but at the same time it was a lot for Timon to share, especially when he preferred to keep such things disclosed. The last time he exchanged similar information with the wolf it had resulted in both tragedy and stupidity. Timon had not been impressed by the outcome and had a feeling he would see the same results by sharing even more, but if they did nothing the outcome they met in the field that afternoon would be even worse.

He awaited a nod in response before releasing his hold of Wolf’s mouth and wandering back to Pumbaa. “Follow my lead.” Timon whispered, knowing the warthog, as clueless as he was, would catch on.

The grass stirred from behind Zira before suddenly Timon appeared in a small opening. Blades of the long grass which surrounded them looked as though it had been woven into some sort of hairpiece on his head which he shook in time to his hips as he began to sing. “Timonlicious definitions make them lions loco! They always claim they know me, comin’ to me, call me their snack. Oh, I’m the T to the I, to the M, the O, and N. And can’t no other meerkat put it down like me. I’m Timonlicious. Meerkat of your wishes. My body be scrawny ‘cause I’m hopin’ I don’t end on dishes. He’s my witness.” Timon gestured back to Pumbaa. “I’ve seen them lions in Pride Rock and they be lining down that rock just to watch what I got.”

Winking at the lioness, the meerkat whipped his fake golden hair back. “So delicious! It’s hot hot! So delicious! Lions eyein’ from Pride Rock! Rock! So delicious! They wanna taste of what I got! I’m Timonilicious!”

The meerkat then came to an abrupt stop, paws held up in front of him. “Hold, hold, hold, hold, hold, hold up!” He held his pose for a moment, and then pointed out into the field. “Check it out!” The moment she looked away, that was their cue to run.

Edited 2011-05-28 20:25 (UTC)

.....What was the meerkat doing? When she heard the grass stirred behind her she had quickly turned, ready to pounce only to be greeted with this sight. Whatever he was doing it gave the lioness a reason to pause and become confused slightly. Why wasn't he running and what the hell was he saying? Or singing for that matter.

By the time he finished, Zira was starting to get annoyed with the act and ready to pounce only to keep staring at Timon and growling. She was not about to look when her prey tells her to!

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Scouting Missions are fun

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